Dad was a kind and loving husband and Mum’s best friend for 59 years, a proud father and was immensely proud of his 6 grandchildren.
 
He worked hard but always found time to drive us to school activities. He would drop everything to help us and continued to support us even after we’d reached adulthood.  He was always at the end of the phone to provide advice - from dealing with the latest family drama to how to wire a plug.
 
In one memorable spontaneous family outing, after hearing on the radio that flying saucers would be visible over Cley Hill in Warminster, we were woken up, packed into the car and driven 60 miles to Wiltshire! Only months old, Glenda was dropped off at Dad’s surprised parents on the way. 
 
We climbed Cley Hill in the small hours of the morning and walked around a ploughed field with other enthusiasts. We didn’t see any UFOs, but what an adventure! 
 
One snowy winter, he recreated the Cresta run in the garden waxing Alan’s wooden surfboard for extra speed. All five of us slid down together squashed on our own 5 man bobsleigh.
 
During his working life he was nearly always covered in motor engine oil. When fixing the family cars he’d take them apart completely and once re-assembled find a part left over, and say “It doesn’t matter, the car’s working fine now, you don’t need that part!”
 
Who can forget Dad’s legendary Boxing Day potato salad, which generally, resembled an armadillo and “Grampy style” napkins!
 
Dad was formal but with a sense of fun – when saying goodbye to his grandchildren he always shook their hands, saying “see you again soon young man” or “young lady”.
 
He was a big nature lover and enjoyed observing the night sky through his telescope, earth’s natural beauty, country walks, wildlife and of course dogs, particularly Great Danes. 
 
Dad was a motorcycle enthusiast - once clocking a top speed of 138mph around the perimeter of Blandford camp in his trademark blue jeans, flying boots and jacket, white silk scarf, goggles and hand painted helmet.
 
He could sing baritone, draw and paint, and was a natural performer and sportsman. A successful amateur boxer – both in the ring and at fairground boxing booths. 
 
In later life, as an armchair sportsman, Dad enjoyed Formula 1, MotoGP, The Ashes, boxing, Olympics, athletics and rugby. There were many telephone chats about rugby results and whether the curtains were drawn in Coelbren if England had won again.
 
As many family and friends cannot be here today, could you all tonight, please raise a glass of your favourite tipple, “to Dad”.